


Starlight

by apple_08



Category: Samurai Jack (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23482600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apple_08/pseuds/apple_08
Summary: " Francis closes his eyes, and wills himself to be more than just his hardware.  If Scaramouche kisses him firmly enough, he can bend.  If Scaramouche loves him warm enough, he can melt.  He feels it, somewhere deep inside him; some part he’s never been able to see. "
Relationships: Samurai Jack/Scaramouch the Merciless
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Starlight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SnowSlayer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowSlayer/gifts).



Writing…

Writing…

Done!

SAVE.

PRINT.

End.

* * *

Francis closed his Command Prompt and readjusted his scanners to the natural environment. It was sunset. Scaramouche would find him soon -this overlook was their regular meeting spot- and Francis would smile and laugh in beeps and bells, and the two would enjoy the cool breeze of the night.

“Give me a moment to shut off my fans” Francis would say, and Scaramouche would laugh -a full orchestra-sounding laugh- delighted to hear about the many outdated technologies Francis runs on. He knows this, knows Francis is an older model, a near obsolete model, worn down by water and dirt and damage, yet he still gasps and awes when Francis mentions any part of his hardware.

“But you still have that _spark_ in ya, don’t ya babe?” Scaramouche says. “That _je ne sais quoi_?” He winks suggestively.

Francis blinks back, both eye panels flickering, since its not in his programming to be able to wink. 

This night they decide to take a walk, instead of sitting there on the rocks. Now instead of swinging his hands coyly, waiting for Scaramouche to grab hold of them, he takes Scaramouche’s hand of his own accord. Scaramouche gives it a squeeze he can almost feel, and he listens for the sound of Scaramouche’s jacket whipping in the wind as they take off. They’re almost at the northern most part of the planet so sometimes, if its clear enough at night, they can see part of the aurora borealis. Francis has overheard from humans that it is one of the great wonders of the world. To Francis, realistically, it is a disruptive electrical charge.

Scaramouche points to the sky excitedly when he sees a streak of it. It takes a moment for Francis to focus his lens and find the swath of pink.

From down here, it is sort of pretty, he supposes.

When Scaramouche knocks his head against Francis’, and humming a quiet but suggestive tone, his APM spikes. So maybe its more than just pretty, he concedes. 

He turns to face Francis fully, and they press their mouths together. Scaramouche has texture. He is warm, and round at some parts, and soft, when he wants to be. Francis closes his eyes, and wills himself to be more than just his hardware. If Scaramouche kisses him firmly enough, he can bend. If Scaramouche loves him warm enough, he can melt. He feels it, somewhere deep inside him; some part he’s never been able to see. When he opens his eyes, and sees Scaramouche looking back at him, bright, and unblinking, he believes that place exists more than he ever has before.

“Can’t wait to do that again tonight, babe.” Scaramouche grins, and wraps both arms around Francis’ waist, lifting him up.

His mind races thinking about the hotel room they’ve booked. They’ve been living out of hotels recently; traveling constantly, due to Francis’ sudden request three months ago. Prior to that, they were living in an apartment in Quebec. French Canada was almost as nice as France, though Francis doesn’t remember the place he was birthed in, he had found his way back once during his travels. Canada was nice. People are friendly there, and most importantly, they don’t pry. Two ex-bounty hunters can unsuspiciously settle down in French Canada.

Then suddenly he asked Scaramouche to go traveling with him. They’d both seen much of the world on their own, but there was something exciting about doing it together. Scaramouche, ever the optimist (and hopelessly in love with Francis) said yes.

Now they’re reaching the peak of the Northern hemisphere, and are soon to begin their descent to the Tropics. Francis has to admit; though he had mostly planned on impressing Scaramouche with sightseeing, the fun they had making love in various exotic locations was turning out to make up a quite a highlight reel in Francis’ internal harddrive.

Scaramouche must have gotten worked up thinking about it too, as he was dragging Francis urgently out of the forest. Francis smiled, and laughed, and catching the devious smile Scaramouche threw back at him, he felt a sudden rush of heat. _Its impossible_ his brain is telling him. _Its completely possible_ that something else, argues back.

They spend endless hours being together during the night. When everyone else has to sleep, the two of them get an extra 8 hours of time. Francis clings to it, fingers tight to Scaramouche’s back. They just need a little more time.

“You alright babe?”

Francis kisses Scaramouche soundly as a response.

Just a little more time, and he could give Scaramouche everything he deserves.

* * *

Entry Log 3889.

My motherboard has frayed nearly to death. There are not many people who know how to fix it, and even less who are willing. Replacements are unlikely, and upgrades are dangerous if not impossible. He makes me want to defy the impossible. I continue to scan the dark web for solutions.

Just in case the impossible is too great to defy, I continue to enthuse our travels. 

It helps that Scaramouche is just as, if not, more enthusiastic than me. I know he has likely been to all of these places before, but at the very least, each time we walk upon ground he’s already conquered, I know that this is without-a-doubt, the first time he’s walked upon it with me. 

I might not make it Uruguay, but I think it will be okay, as long as we make it through the Savannah before Final Shutdown. He has a fondness for tigers, and though there is only one left in existence, I am eager to let him take ridiculously choreographed selfies in front of it before I die.

Tomorrow we take pause in St. Petersburg. He wants to shop for matryoshkas, and while he’s out shopping, I will meet with a man about new cell batteries. When he kisses me farewell every morning, and sees all will be well, I can’t help but to believe him. I want to believe him. 

At least until the very last moment, I can try.

SAVE.

PRINT.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments!


End file.
